


An Account of the Birth of the Heir(s) to the Throne of Ethuveraz, in the Reign of His Imperial Serenity, Edrehasivar, Seventh Of That Name

by kiwisson



Series: Post-canon TGE fic [1]
Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Anxious Papa Maia Is Anxious, Childbirth, F/M, Fluff, Is Totally Easy And Not Even A Little Bit Gross Ever Honest, Pregnancy, Slight Maia/Csevet Because I Cannot Not Ship It, fluff for days, twins!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 10:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwisson/pseuds/kiwisson
Summary: "Damn and hellfrost, Maia, I want a divorce.""I'll let Berenar know at once."





	An Account of the Birth of the Heir(s) to the Throne of Ethuveraz, in the Reign of His Imperial Serenity, Edrehasivar, Seventh Of That Name

Maia woke to Nemer’s gentle hand on his shoulder. “Serenity, we beg pardon, but Araäno is without and says it’s time.”

Araäno was Csethiro’s edocharo. Maia sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “She’s sure? It’s not just-” Csethiro had been having what the doctors called “false pains” for the last few weeks. She countered that the pains were entirely real, thank you very much, just not productive of anything.

“Quite sure, Serenity. She says the Zhasan’s water has come.”

_ Oh _ . Maia put his feet on the floor, and Esha was bringing his robe. “What’s the clock?” The sky was lightening outside his window, but to clouds rather than true sunrise. He wondered what kind of omen that was, for royalty to be born on a rainy day.

“Not quite six, Serenity.” 

Gods, he’d barely been asleep four hours, then. He and Csevet had been up half the night, going over precedent and context for this cursed dispute he was supposed to answer today- But that didn’t matter now, not much mattered in the face of Csethiro in labor. “Well, let us go to see her.” He stepped into slippers and Telimezh opened the door. Araäno curtsied, murmured “Serenity” in greeting, and led them out.

The Empress’s Suite stood across the hall from his own. In their first months of marriage the nights that they they slept together (or, ah,  _ slept together _ ) took place almost at random, based on how horrible their respective schedules managed to be during the day. But during this last month of her pregnancy Csethiro had moved entirely into the suite, stating quite prudently that she was waking up five or six times in a night anyway, and felt a horrid wife to so disturb her husband’s sleep. They saw each other during the day, of course, but he did miss her.

They paused at the door and Maia said “Kiru, would you come in with us?"

“Of course, Serenity,” she replied, and both tactfully ignored Telimezh’s visible relief as Araäno knocked twice, then opened the door.

The Empress Csethiro stood at her vanity, in a fresh nightgown and barefoot, leaning on her hands as Serian rebound her hair. Across the room Liaro and a maid stripped the great bed with military efficiency. All three servants looked up and made to drop their work and curtsy as Maia entered, but he waved them off and stood by Csethiro. “Is it very bad?”

She shot him a sardonic look. “Like walking in the rose gardens on a beautiful spring day. Oh, but with someone stabbing you every few minutes. But other than that, exactly like.”

Maia smiled and took her hands. If she could be sarcastic, it wasn’t too bad yet. “Don’t know why thou agreed to marry me,” he murmured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

She brushed his cheek affectionately. “Oh, the first few months weren’t so bad,” she replied lightly, and laughed at his blush. “Truly, dearest, I am well enough, and the midwives have been sent for-” She stiffened, and Maia hurriedly moved to hold her upright as she trembled through the contraction. “Damn,” she gasped when it released her. “Damn and hellfrost, Maia, I want a divorce.”

“I’ll let Berenar know at once.” He pressed a kiss to her sweat-soaked hair. His brave, beautiful Empress. The divorce jokes had begun an hour after their wedding vows were exchanged, when she saw the line of well-wishers. It had startled a real laugh out of him, on that day heavy with flowers and ritual, and he thought that was why she kept them for truly bad moments.

Kiru approached on her other side. “Zhasan, you should lie down before you fall down,” she said, casually, as if she was present at imperial births every day and it was the most boring thing in the world. At times like this Maia loved Kiru, he truly did. 

“We’re not going to _ fall down _ ,” Csethiro protested, but didn’t resist when Maia led her gently to the bed. He pulled away a bit as her edocharei settled her into it, but kept hold of her hand, and she squeezed it tight when they pulled away. He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Dost need anything? I’m sure Dachensol Ebremis is up and working already-”

“No - but perhaps tea, with the healers’ permission?” She looked up at Kiru beseechingly, who nodded and moved toward the door.

But it opened before she reached it, and Telimezh put his head in, carefully averting his eyes from everyone and everything. “Serenity, the First Nohecharei and Mer Aisava are without, and he wishes to know if there are any messages he should send.”

Maia shook his head. “Tell Csevet to cancel all our appointments for today. We’ll remain in the Alcethmeret-”

_ “No!”  _ The word was sharp and tight, and when Maia looked back at Csethiro he could see she was in the midst of another spell of pain. But her hand was locked in his and her eyes blazed like blue coals. When it passed she said again, near-breathless, “No, Maia. Thou mustn’t.”

“I should-”

“Absolutely not. Thou art  _ emperor _ . Thou hast  _ responsibilities _ . And that Istandaäreise feud is going to kill someone soon if it’s not resolved.” She caught his hand in both of hers. “Promise me, Edrehasivar. You _must_ go.”

That stung. “I don’t care about their stupid inheritance tantrums. I care about  _ thee _ , and our children.” And she was young and healthy, all the healers said so, but these were twins. And her own mother had died in childbirth to her younger sister, and when he thought of being stuck in the Michen'theilian with squabbling nobles while she-

“Dearest, I’m sorry.” She brought his hand to her cheek, eyes glittering with tears. “Truly, I am, but this needs doing, and thou art the only one who can shut them up. Promise me. As - as a birthday-present to our children.”

He sagged. “I promise thee.” Telimezh was still waiting at the door, and Maia turned back to him. “We beg pardon. Tell him to send for Dach’osmerrem Ceredaran, and the Archduchess Vedero, and-”

“Osmerrem Berenaran, and Aunt Arbelan, if she feels up to it,” Csethiro completed. “Half thy family and mine will probably try to break down the grilles, not to mention what the rest of the court will do, but those are the people I want in the actual room.” 

“The Hezhethora have already offered to guard thee from overenthusiastic well-wishers, if thou wishest.” The offer has actually been made by Nadeian, over hot chocolate one evening a few weeks past, but Maia was inclined to take her up on it. 

“Oh, that would be very useful of them.” She kissed his hand and loosed her grip on it at last. “Shouldst go. Shouldst get prettied up for the day ahead.”

“If I go to the Michen'theilian in my dressing-gown and slippers, think’st thou the Istandaäreise parties will shut up long enough for me to speak?” That made her laugh, and he confessed, “I still don’t want to leave thee.”

From the corner opposite the door, Kiru coughed politely. “Serenity, Zhasan, if it pleases you both…”

They both looked up, and Maia said, “Yes, Kiru Athmaza?”

“We could remain here. The guard is changing anyway, and we have aught else to do today. Even just until the midwives arrive and settle themselves.”

Maia shook his head. “We cannot ask that of you.” Her shift was over, she’d earned her rest.

Kiru smiled. “You have not  _ asked _ , Serenity. We have offered.”

Maia looked to Csethiro, who bit her lip and nodded. “It would be a comfort, Kiru. We thank you.”

Kiru bowed. “We’ll just tell Telimezh to bring our bag before he turns in for the day.” She moved to the door, and Maia squeezed Csethiro’s hand once more.

“With Kiru within and half the army of Barizhan without, I suppose wilt be safe enough.”

She laughed again, and he treasured it. “I’ll be fine, thou daft, darling man. Women give birth every day across the world, even to twins. And to greater numbers.”

“Gods, don’t threaten me like that.”

“Go save the Ethuveraz from civil war. That’s an order from thy empress.”

“Yes, dearest.” He leaned down and kissed her once, twice, then forced himself to step away. “Wilt have them send word if-”

_ “Leave!” _

He left.

Any comfort he had did not last past the grilles of the Alcethmeret, though, and by midmorning he was idly considering having everyone in the Michen'theilian hanged for the crime of giving the Emperor a migraine. 

The late Duke Sorlinel had apparently found great joy in his later years by making his last will and testament the most convoluted and contrary document ever written. Now the new Duke, the late Duke’s son-in-law, the Prince of Thu-Istandaär, and half a dozen more minor nobles, persons of local import, and persons whom Maia could not for the life of him see the need for at all, were all ready to tear each other’s heads off. And he was quite inclined to let them.

The discussion was turning to shouting over each other once more, and something within him snapped. He stood and took a deep breath - he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but by all the gods if anyone was going to be shouting it was going to be him -

-and a young girl in the livery of the Alcethmeret came dashing into the Michen'theilian, skirts caught up in her hands, and flung herself to her knees before the Michen'theilian's little dais. “Your Imperial Serenity!”

That shut everyone up, far better than any shouting. Maia swallowed, mouth suddenly gone dry as dust. “Yes?” he nearly whispered into the suddenly silent room.

The maid looked up, chest heaving - and beamed. “A boy and a girl, Serenity - the girl a scant four minutes the elder.”

_ Oh. _ His knees went weak, and he leaned one hand on the table. “And the Empress?”

“Is well, and wishful to see you as soon as you can be spared, Serenity.”

Yes, his knees were definitely going to go. His hands clenched on the wood of the table as he leaned over it, swallowing deep breaths.

_ A boy and a girl. _

_ And Csethiro is well. _

He looked up. “Well, gentlemen,” he croaked. “Can we be spared? Or will you all keep us here until our - our children are grown?”

_ My children! And Csethiro is well! _

Somehow a dispute almost a year in the making resolved itself in ten minutes. No one wanted to be standing between the Emperor and his offspring. Maia spoke the ruling they agreed to as soon as it was set, and it could have been to burn down the entirety of the Untheileneise Court for all he cared.

Berenar leaned in close as Maia sat down. “Serenity, we can wrap things up here. Go to them.” At Maia’s startled look the older man grinned. “Your children are waiting, and so is their mother. Go!”

Maia stared a moment longer, then laughed and clasped Berenar’s hands. “Our children. Our children! A daughter and a son, can you even-”

_ “Go!” _ Berenar laughed, and Maia went. He did not quite run all the way back to the Alcethmeret, but he certainly caught up his flowing robes in one hand and proceeded with a pace and manner entirely unbecoming an Emperor, giddy with relief and delight. And if anyone thought ill of it, for the first time since his coronation not even the tiniest part of him could bring itself to care.

_ A son and a daughter, and Csethiro is- _

He paused at the door. Captain Vizhenka returned his grin, and turned to knock.

“Enter!”

_ Csethiro. _ He didn’t think his heart could swell any further, but somehow it did. He stepped inside.

Every person in the room turned and bowed or curtsied when he entered. Every person but three.

Csethiro, propped on her pillows, looking exhausted and elated and gloriously alive.

And the two little bundles of blanket. One in Csethiro’s arms, the other in the arms of a nursemaid.

Maia stepped to the maid, and thank all the gods she didn’t wait for him ask, because words were entirely lost to him. Gently, so gently, she settled the little bundle in his arms. “The Archduchess, Serenity.”

He gazed down. Her pale-grey skin was flushed and wrinkled, and as she was passed from one set of arms to another her eyes opened.

Silver eyes. Drazhadeise eyes.  _ His  _ eyes, frowning curiously up out of that tiny pinched face.

He sat on the edge of the bed, transfixed. “Hello,” he whispered. “I’m so pleased to meet thee at last.”

“And here is the Prince,” Csethiro said softly, turning him a little for Maia to see. Another pinched silver-cloud face, but these eyes remained tight shut. “He’s less fussy, so I decided to let thee have her first.”

“I see.” Indeed the Archduchess was beginning to squirm. He touched the side of her face with a fingertip and she turned toward it with a little sound. His  _ daughter _ . And right there was his  _ son _ , in the arms of his  _ wife _ . Could a heart break from joy, he wondered? “The baptism will be tomorrow. Dost still-”

“Yes. Chenelis and Corleiän they shall be.” For his mother and hers. They’d agreed as soon as the healers had confirmed twins.

After a time he realized that everyone else had filed out. All that remained were Cala and the two nursemaids, infinitely patient. He knew, somewhere, that the time would come when he’d need to hand his daughter back, let her nurse and go to the crib waiting in the nursery - but not yet, not just yet. For now he had time, time to memorize the angle of her nose (hers), the way her fine hair swirled across her scalp (his), the perfect folds within her still-soft ear (hers, he thought, he’d never had much chance to examine his own ears that closely), the feeling of her heart beneath his palm (entirely her own, his daughter, his  _ daughter _ )...

There was a knock at the door, and Cala opened it to admit Csevet. “Serenity. Zhasan.” He bowed deeply.

Csethiro sighed. “Mer Aisava, you know we care for you deeply, and so does the Emperor, but if you tell him he has to go anywhere or do anything, anything at all, we will be forced to get out of this bed and kill you with our own two hands. And we so very much do  _ not  _ want to do that.”

Csevet pressed a hand to his chest. “Nor do we, Zhasan. We wished only to inform your Serenity that the announcements have been sent out to all corners of the Ethuveraz. The Archprelate sends word that he will be ready for the baptism at seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Just about everyone at the Court sends their congratulations, and we have taken the liberty of clearing your schedule entirely until tomorrow afternoon.” He frowned slightly. “We would clear it further, but only the Emperor may cancel the Corazhas.”

“Thank you, Csevet,” Maia said absently. His daughter had turned her head again, and something about the line of her jaw made him think of his mother. Could it be true? It had been so long, perhaps he ought to ask Osmerrem Gormened if she remembered...

“Is there anything else you may need of us, Serenity?”

“Look at my son, Csevet. Is he not perfect in every way? Is not my daughter the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?”

Csevet obediently studied the imperial twins. After a moment, he smiled and said, “They look like you.” And on Maia’s awestruck look, he bowed again and let himself out.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Osmerrem Berenaran seems like she'd fit in wonderfully with Csethiro and Vedero's set. Vedero and Arbelan will be sympathetic, but of course neither of them have the life experience for this.
> 
> \- Csevet is better with kids who are at least somewhat ambulatory and conversant, honest.
> 
> \- I have many ideas for the twins, but whether they get typed up and posted is another matter. For now, a teaser: they don't officially co-rule, but they discover at a young age that only their parents and the nohecharei can tell them apart if they swap clothes, and even they need a moment and a direct look. So the Archduchess Corleiän gets her "fair share" of the privileges and perks afforded to the Imperial Heir, and the Prince Chenelis gets to relax with his mother and her friends, who all think it's a marvelous idea. They continue this practice well into the reign of Edrehasivar the Eighth, and though rumors abound for years afterwards, no one can ever be totally certain whose appearances are which. Maia's granddaughter, Chenelis's daughter, is the first Empress to rule in her own right, as Edrehasivan, First of Her Name.
> 
> \- I can be found at csevet.tumblr.com, and my TGE tag is #kiwi reads the goblin emperor. I am. A little obsessed, and would appreciate more people to talk to about it!


End file.
